Dear fellow Elden Ring players,
It’s me, Bonk the Bonkest. I’m the ginger trucker with the big stick. You’ve probably seen me kicking turtles in the Limgrave ponds and laying rainbow stones down by Margit’s dead body. I know, I should be taking this whole ‘Stop the Two Fingers and save the Lands Between’ quest a bit more seriously, but I’ve been here before, so I just wanna smack things with my big wooden club and have a good time.
I’ve been calling on your help too, like-minded strangers excited to crawl into Miquella’s cracked cocoon. Only, I forget everything I’ve learned about these games over the past ten years the second that somebody is watching me. I’m sorry.
To the half-naked bright green bald man who tried to help me take down O’Neil by hurling purple rocks, I’m sorry the flimsy archers that take two hits to die got the jump on me. If it’s any consolation, I spent an hour getting curb-stomped. Even Torrent looked disappointed in me.
To the umpteenth Berserk cosplayer, I’m sorry that I died to the Erdtree Avatar. We were two hits away from victory and you were about to reap the rewards for helping a lowly stranger on the road, but I got overzealous and started bonking while it readied a magical explosion. You used the ‘Spread Out’ gesture, which rubbed salt into the wound of my embarrassment, but I deserved it.
And for the monstrous tomato-looking sorcerer that joined my fight in Castle Morne on the way to the Leonine Misbegotten, I’m sorry that I fell in the water and drowned. There were no enemies, obstacles, or any tricky platforming segments. I’m just a moron who wasn’t paying attention. It’s humiliating, and if I could write you a message in the sand saying sorry, I would.
I’ve known this embarrassment for a while now. I got into the genre with Dark Souls 2. A mutual friend who I just met wanted a cooperative partner, and my god, I’m especially sorry to you.
I learned how to play soulslikes through a 200-plus hour playthrough with said mutual friend,
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